Change Is Good
by Cyfareddol Swyn
Summary: AU! Time Travel! A quick recap of 25 yr. old Harry's life. Then the story begins . . . Harry lost everyone during the war. After disposing of Voldemort, Harry decides he's up for round two, and travels back in time. What will he change? ON HOLD . . .
1. A Life Gone Sour

**Disclaimer**: _You know the drill. I don't own Harry Potter or any affiliations to, with, or related to the Harry Potter . . . umm . . . empire. lol. I simply manipulate Mrs. Rowling's wonderful world to my liking, that's all. Enjoy!_

---Alright, ch. 1 is a little slow, I just wanted to get you all up to speed on both Harry's and Lupin's life, because they both play large parts in the story. BUT, the next chapters are much interesting to read, so don't quit after chapter one . . . thanks, Ben

**Chapter one: A life gone sour**

Harry James Potter was sitting, very fidgety, in a comfortable armchair across from a roaring fireplace. The red-orange flames were usually very calming to him, because they reminded him of certain figures in his past. But today the flames seemed to be taunting him.

'_Where are you Remus_?' the man mentally sighed with a hint of irritation. He and Remus John Lupin, once a Professor/Student relationship, were very good friends. Unfortunately, their close friendship was due to the lack of others to befriend.

He and Lupin had lived and traveled together for the last five years. At first, because they needed protection from threats; but now, even after the war, they stayed at each other's sides almost habitually.

Harry thought about the war a lot, atleast lately he did. It had spiraled out of control faster than anyone could have predicted.

In fact, the first large-scale attack at happened at his current location . . .

Harry had finished his sixth year at Hogwarts and had done as he'd promised himself – he'd left in search of Lord Voldemort's remaining soul fragments. Tom Riddle's diary had been destroyed already, as had Marvolo Gaunt's ring. Before the murder, he and Dumbledore were almost certain Slytherin's locket and Helga Hufflepuff's Cup were Horcruxes. His and his Headmaster's assumptions had been correct. The locket, kept safe thanks to Kreacher, was easily attained at Grimmauld Place. The Cup had been much harder to find, but thanks to Hermione's brilliance (his two best mates had joined him, no matter what the risks), they eventually tracked it down and disposed of it appropriately.

The three 17 year olds were proud of themselves. They'd undermined the darkest and most powerful wizard of the time with out his notice, and destroyed four of the rumored six soul fragments he had stashed away. However, their happiness was short lived.

Within hours of successfully tracking and destroying the cup, an urgent owl had swooped in on them and requested their presence at the Ministry of Magic.

"Should we decline mate?" Ron had asked between spoonfuls of soup. In truth, they should have. The three were technically undercover. Only a select few knew of their whereabouts and trials. But Harry had one of those _feelings_, and they left for the Ministry anyway.

The Ministry Lobby they apparated into was almost unrecognizable. The once shiny and clean marble floors where covered in dust, rock, and what appeared to be blood at ever turn. The damage Dumbledore and Voldemort had produced in their battle there had been minor compared to the wreckage around the trio now.

"Mr. Potter," Auror Shacklebolt, an Order member, greeted as he approached. "We were worried you three would not come." He paused and studied their reactions. "As you can see, there has been a battle here." His voice quieted and he looked to his feet. "Actually, it was more of a Massacre."

The trio was speechless as they put the puzzle together themselves. Voldemort had attacked.

"He came without warning and used the element of surprise to his advantage. From what we can gather, he locked the fireplaces immediately and then blocked the hall that leads here to the lobby. Apparition wards are placed everywhere throughout the Ministry except for the lobby, Harry," Shacklebolt finished, knowing Harry would understand. 'Massacre' had been a correct adjective, for Voldemort had left no way to escape. "The only auxiliary fire place that's connected to the network is in the Minister's office. He lived, I might add. Scrimgeour evaded the Death Eaters. I suspect he was hiding."

"How many?" Harry had asked, his mouth dry.

"We . . . we don't know yet. We're still finding bodies." Shacklebolt choked out the last word in a revolted sort of way. "We were hoping you three would help the search teams." The three had agreed to do so and set off in separate directions. Harry had found no survivors, only bodies of men and women who he'd never met before. It wasn't until he stumbled into a third floor office that he finally threw up.

The office contained two bodies. One was easily distinguishable; the other would be hard to identify for anyone who'd never met the women. There, on the floor of the office, lay one of his best mate's parents: Molly and Arthur Weasley. Arthur was slouched against the wall; his lifeless eyes staring at the spot were Harry stood. Molly was flat across the floor; her clothes naught but rags. She was in an unmistakable pool of her own blood and her limbs were all sticking out at unnatural angles.

He Harry had broke down and wept almost at once. It was bad enough to lose the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother and father. It was, however, worse, to be the one to discover them in this position, and have to be the one to inform everyone else of his discovery. There was no family more closely knit than the Weasley family, and to lose not one, but two of its most important members would come as a devastating blow to the remaining members. Asking around, Harry was informed, via the visitor records, that Mrs. Weasley had come to visit Percy. Percy's body was never found, but then again, there had been many nameless corpses found by the end of the search. Needless to say, the trio had all fallen asleep with tear stained faces that night.

There were many small attacks throughout Great Britain over the months following the Ministry's fall. Both wizard and muggle families fell victim to Voldemort and his forces. It wasn't until the spring of what should have been the trio's seventh and final year at Hogwarts that another large attack occurred. In an attempt to disrupt the flow of news throughout the wizarding world, Voldemort had disbanded the entire network of Daily Prophet buildings. In the same day, he had dismantled the Wizard Wireless radio center. Everything continued to escalate after that. The Dark Lord had succeeded in his goal; the people relied on the news. Without it, they were in the dark. They were ignorant to what was going on now, and it scared them shitless. The panicked people started traveling to safer locations, predominantly Hogwarts.

As it was, there were still smaller magazines on print. The magazines had picked up in the Prophets stead, and started relaying what news they could to the public. Voldemort had presumably noticed and began eradicating them. It was a sad day on that early summer afternoon, just weeks before Harry's eighteenth birthday, when Voldemort found The Quibbler to be next on his 'to do list.'

After the fact, there wasn't much the rescue party could do. After wand checks and 'time of death' charms, the clean up crew could piece together a rough timeline of events. The day the attack came to pass, Harry's old Professors Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick were on-seen at the Lovegood manor. The Quibbler, which was at the time the largest news distribution service in the wizarding world, was under constant protection, for an attack was not just a possibility, it was imminent.

Voldemort's Death Eaters had fallen upon the manor in numbers that greatly outnumbered those of the protectors. It was concluded that McGonagall had killed Crabbe and Goyle Seniors some time in the battle before she was struck by Avery's killing curse. Flitwick had witnessed the fall of his colleague and had snapped. It was apparent that Flitwick, a known dueling master, had cut Avery down to a size not much taller than himself with a strong cutting curse in retaliation. Flitwick had lasted much longer in the battle. He died of blood loss after a number of wounds from glancing spells bled out. Also amongst the dead was Mr. Lovegood. He was found in his study with a picture of his full family – he, Luna, and Solena – in his lap.

The Lovegood manor had been under such great pressure that no one had a chance to send for help. As such, when Luna left the Weasley's house that evening (she was visiting Ginny), she found her house swarming with Death Eaters. Her body was later found in the back yard of her home behind some shrubbery, her butterbeer cork necklace still around her neck. Harry, Ron, and Hermione weren't even notified of the attack until the following morning.

Following the deaths of their parent's, Fred and George had taken control of The Burrow. Bill and Charlie worked so far from home that there wasn't much they could do. With the help of their joke shop, Fred and George were able to keep their home fit for living in. After the attack on the Lovegoods, Ginny had been moved to Hogwarts where she would be safer.

The trio only abandoned their search once that summer, and that was to surprise Ginny at Hogwarts on her seventeenth birthday. Fred and George had apologized to Ginny profusely the previously morning, but they had no choice but to open their shop for a little while. With the slowly decreasing number of shoppers in Diagon Alley, shopkeepers had to work almost without sleep if they wanted to make any profits. They assured their only sister that they'd close up shop early that evening and they would throw a big party for her. They never made that party.

Ginny had been over-joyed to see the trio, especially Harry. They were still lost in each other when news of an attack on Diagon Alley reached Hogwarts. Ginny's seventeenth birthday would be memorable, horribly memorable.

Voldemort had chosen that day to attack Diagon Alley. Because the economy of wizarding Britain revolved around this center of commerce, its fall would throw the community into further financial unrest. The destruction of Diagon Alley was devastating to many. Those who kept their money in Gringotts found themselves penniless. Those with businesses and those employed in Diagon Alley were now jobless. The Death Eaters were relentless. They had killed without mercy. From what the survivors said, Fred and George had held the Death Eaters at bay as long as they could, giving others the chance to Floo away through the fireplace in their shop. The act of heroism cost them both their lives that day.

Bill and Charlie, the eldest brothers of the torn family, immediately left their jobs once they got wind of their brothers' deaths. It fell upon their shoulders now to defend their sister. Ron, they had no control over. He never told his family what he was doing with Harry and Hermione. It was a sign of loyalty towards Harry that he kept his mouth shut. As far as the trio knew, Voldemort was still unaware of the fact that they were scouring the country in search of his immortality, of which only one piece was left. They had, by accident, discovered that the sword of Gryffindor was a horcrux during their short stay at Hogwarts. Yes, only one remained. Harry had suspicions, but he wasn't positive. The trio would just have to wait and see. As soon as they found her, they'd know.

What was left of the resistance had split into two factions. One half was based at Hogwarts, where most of the surviving wizarding families now resided. The other half was stationed at St. Mungo's. Auror Nymphadora Tonks, Ex-Auror Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, and Charlie Weasley were among the St. Mungo's defenders. The weather was just starting to display signs of winter when Voldemort targeted the wizard hospital. As far as anyone could tell, the Death Eaters had been forced to retreat. Instead of fighting head to head, Voldemort instead collapsed the entire building in upon itself, instantly killing everyone within as it magically flattened.

Those remaining defenders at Hogwarts, especially Bill Weasley, Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin, were shocked and outraged. Grief stricken with the loss of their brother, friend, or wife-to-be, the three deserted Hogwarts and went on a campaign to reap their revenge.

Almost happening simultaneously with the St. Mungo's attack, Harry, Ron and Hermione destroyed the last horcrux. After searching numerous locations, the trio found Nagini, Voldemort's snake, lurking around in Tom's parent's old house in the city of Little Hangleton. Together, the three of them had no trouble destroying the snake. They had finally, after close to a year and a half of search and destroy expeditions, destroyed the remaining four exterior soul fragments property of Lord Voldemort. All that remained was the fragment residing in his body. Seeing a chance to anger the man, the trio destroyed the manor. When they departed, it was naught but a heap of rumble. They were unaware of the disaster at St. Mungo's and, seeing as they were so exhausted both magically and physically, decided a good nights sleep was in order. As such, when they arrived at Hogwarts, they never even took notice of the site's unrest.

As was expected, when the trio entered the Hospital Wing they were assaulted straight away by Madam Pomfrey. The school nurse had been in the castle all day; had had no visitors; and had no knowledge of any wrong doings in the world as of yet. The three were forced into beds and put under with strong sleep induced potions that would allow them a full 24 hours rest, and would leave them feeling good as new. It was still early in the afternoon.

Harry had, as he was promised, a full bout of sleep. Unfortunately, he also had a series of bad dreams, seemingly courtesy of his imagination, that played out some of his worst fears. He watched, as if through the eyes of another, as Bellatrix Lestrange tortured and murdered his only remaining family on Private Drive.

Harry had watched as she, Snape, Malfoy senior, and a handful of others Death Eaters exited the house and came face to face with Bill Weasley, Kingley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin.

Harry had no choice, but had to observe as Bill killed Malfoy senior. It had somehow leaked out that Malfoy was not only responsible for the murders of Molly and Arthur Weasley, but for Fred and George Weasley aswell.

Harry was horrified to see Shacklebolt fall under Bellatrix's wand, and then watch as the same fate befell upon Bill when Snape broke through his defenses. Harry saw, as if from afar, a number of bodies spread haphazardly around Private Drive. Each of the three avengers lay still. Their quarry wasn't so lucky either. Throughout the course of the war, Voldemort's forces had slowly diminished. Now, at the high point of the war, he had but two faithful Death Eaters left: Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus Snape.

Taking no chances, Voldemort and his two servants departed quickly without bothering to check for survivors of the scuffle.

Harry, continuing to watch, saw the scene of his day's work. Harry could clearly see through Voldemort's eyes, as he had attributed this sensation to, the ruined manor that entombed Nagini. Through his awareness, Harry could sense a mental battle raging through Voldemort's mind. _It couldn't be. No. Never. I would have noticed. I would have felt it._

In quick succession, Voldemort traveled to six individual locations. At each scene, he found destroyed property, and no horcrux. _How could this have happened? He is just a boy!_

Scenes seemed to fade in and out after that. Harry witnessed bits and pieces of Voldemort's evening. He saw Tom send Snape and, to Harry's outrage, Draco Malfoy, a new recruit, to complete some task for him.

The next bit Harry could discern was seeing a very proud looking Draco and Severus strutting up to himself (Voldemort) and telling him the task had been completed superbly. After this proclamation, time seemed to whirl, and Harry found himself looking at Ron and Hermione through the eyes of Lord Voldemort.

Harry could do nothing but watch as Hermione shielded Ron from Draco's killing curse, then crumpled to the floor at her boyfriend's feet. Ron swiftly beheaded the ferret, and then joined his girlfriend on the floor after a quick flick of Snape's wand issued an unearthly green light.

Harry had awoken with a start. He'd sat up so fast he almost passed out. He'd found Ron and Hermione's beds empty and started to panic. Madam Pomfrey's shouts fell on deaf ears as he hurtled down and out of the castle. With such a large number of inhabitants living at Hogwarts, the more able bodied of them slept on the great sweeping lawns out front. What he saw almost made him wretch.

Hagrid was walking threw the campsite checking tents, as were a few others. Every now and then, Hagrid would pull out something and toss it in a massive wheel barrow he was pushing along. When Harry realized that those were all bodies, he felt the bile rise in his throat, and he had to fight to keep his composure.

"Hagrid!" He'd yelled in a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "What happened?" He demanded to know.

"'arry," Hagrid choked out between enormous sobs. "'arry, I'm sorry. I fell asleep an' I didn' see 'em or hear 'em. T'was bloody Malfoy an' Snape 'arry, I'm sorry," Hagrid cried, tears dripping from his beard. "I didn' move 'er, 'arry."

'_No!_' Harry's heart plummeted. He ran. He knew which tent she was in, but it was so hard to keep moving. When he reached his destination and pulled back the flap that allowed for entering and exiting, the sight that met his eyes was more heart-wrenching than any he'd seen before. Harry held in the sob that threatened to claim him, and instead, broke into a fit of the shakes as he looked down upon the body of Ginny Weasley – his first and only love.

She was still covered up mostly by the green blanket that came with her portable encampment bed. Her silky copper colored hair was fanned out all around her head. On any other day, her position could be described as nothing but beautiful, if it weren't for the horrified expression on her face; her eyes wide open and staring into the abyss.

Harry couldn't stand it any longer. Before leaving, he closed Ginny's eyes for her, and smoothed her face out with his hands. She looked oddly peaceful when he'd finished. Pulling the blanket up higher and giving her a swift kiss on the forehead, he'd left the tent with no intent to ever revisit it. On top of it all, Hagrid informed him that Neville and Professor Sprout had also been killed.

"I have to go check something out Hagrid, I'll be back later." Hagrid gave him a questioning look and Harry, who'd mastered some of the basics of legilimency, realized Hagrid was concerned the he was suicidal. In all truth, the idea didn't sound too bad at the moment, but he had some things to take care of first.

Harry apparated to Private Drive and found the scene un-touched. Harry's eyes started to itch. The sight before him just about confirmed the death of his two best friends. He went around and started attaching port-keys to his comrades.

"Harry?" someone rasped from somewhere amidst the dead. "Harry, is that you?" Harry quickly found the source of the voice and started to cry harder.

"Professor," he'd sobbed out lovingly before dropping down and fiercely hugging the man before him. "Here, hold this, I'll send you to Hogwarts. I'll meet you there as soon as I can." Lupin just smiled before he disappeared.

The war had hit Harry hard. He had promised himself he wouldn't hide behind anyone any longer at Dumbledore's funeral, for that meant almost certain death for his protectors, and so, he hadn't. Look where that had gotten him. It didn't matter if he didn't associate himself with people. They all seemed to die anyway.

After transporting Ron's and Hermione's bodies back to Hogwarts, Harry found himself demanding answers from anyone who'd respond. Hagrid had told him that he'd seen Ron and Hermione take off shortly after they'd found Ginny's body. Madam Pomfrey said they up and left before she had a chance to say otherwise. She said she must have measured their sleeping potions a little short, because they shan't have woke until he later.

The war continued on in a blur of muggle and wizarding family's deaths, natural disasters and political assassinations after that. It was rumored that Snape and Bellatrix, seeing the odds, had eluded their master and went into hiding. But before they'd done so, the pair had ruined another life of someone close to Harry – Hagird – and killed his big little brother Grawp. Hagrid died roughly six months later in the middle of summer. Fang, who was only getting older, had past away that spring, and that seemed to break what was left of Hagrid. He'd become very depressed and eventually passed away of 'complications' according to Madam Pomfrey.

Those witches and wizards who remained in Great Britain, including Madam Pomfrey, left and moved to safer countries starting in the summer around Harry's nineteenth birthday.

But He and Lupin stayed. They decided to finish the job that started almost 60 years ago. Together, they trained to become more powerful and adept in the ways of magic. That knew what was at stake, and knew they had to hurry, for Voldemort was still afoot, and he was messing in muggle affairs now too.

Almost a year later, closing on Harry's twentieth birthday, he and Lupin finally set out to kill the most powerful dark wizard of the age.

The pair cornered him in September near a German military base. Voldemort was attempting to jumpstart a war between countries, but would be unsuccessful. Lupin had immediately erected an apparition ward, and it proved to be effective when Voldemort gracefully spun on the spot, but remained there none the less.

"Clever." He'd sneered. Voldemort had aged appropriately over the last year and a half. It seemed his Horcruxes had an added bonus of temporarily freezing his age. Without them, Tom was pure mortal.

Harry and Lupin had been going over this moment in advance for quite some time. They determined that the sharing protection of blood magic, courtesy of Harry's Mum, would render the killing curse ineffective. Voldemort would need to be defeated with something else.

All they had to do was get past his defenses. Harry had dodged for all he was worth, sending a spell here and there when he could. If it wasn't for Lupin on the attack, Harry may never had made it. After a quick succession of attacks between Lupin and himself, Voldemort was forced to solely defend himself. Lupin and Harry battered his shield, watching as it slowly weakened. At last, Harry slipped a blasting curse through Tom's shield and Lupin's disarming charm hit its mark. Not wanting to take chances, Lupin took a leaf from Snape's book (no pun intended) and banished Voldemort's wand. Lupin had informed Harry that it was this trickery of Snape's that was responsible for Bill's death.

The Dark Lord was wand-less and exposed. Harry, remembering everyone close to him who'd lost their lives throughout the war – Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Percy, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sirius, Dumbledore, Mr. Lovegood, Luna, Fred and George, Moody, Charlie, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Bill, Hermione and Ron, Hagrid, Neville, and. . . . Ginny – gathered as much magic as he could muster in his body and cast the strongest reductor curse he could.

The power Tom knew not was simply the power of emotion – the power of feelings – the power of friendship – the power of love. Tom avoided friendship his whole life. He evaded love of any kind. He eluded any and all feelings of companionship. In committing such actions, he condemned his own life. Dumbledore had tried to explain it to Tom in his youth, but Tom was unwilling to accept such facts. You draw magic from your emotions. Tom had many strong emotions, that is undeniable. But as it is, feelings such as anger, desire, and ambition are not as strong as the feeling of love, trust, or companionship. Harry's use of these feeling drew upon magic that was untouchable in regards to Tom. The use of Harry's magic was overwhelming and its force proved to be greater than anyone could have hypothesized.

Harry had passed out after his magical overload, and according to Lupin, slept three straight days. They'd done it, Harry's spell had made Pettigrew's thumb look like a _large_ piece of matter.

"Who's next mate? Snape?" Harry croaked the afternoon when he'd regained consciousness. Lupin just chuckled.

"No, I don't think so Harry. Lord Voldemort had quite the hidden agenda. He never told his followers, but if he died, so would everyone connected to him through his Protean Charm. I doubt so many would've joined him had they known that."

"Shoot," Harry murmured sadly, which earned him a questioning look from Lupin. "I really wanted to kill him." Lupin just nodded. He probably had the same feelings in regards to Snape.

The sound of a door opening and closing in the distance momentarily brought present day Harry Potter out of his mental diary. He was 25 now. He never would have reached his 25th had it not been for his friend. He would have succumbed to death long ago had it not been for Lupin.

After he'd brought down Lord Voldemort, he'd felt lost; almost purposeless. The only thing that had kept him going during the war was the promise of killing Voldemort. With that finished, Harry couldn't truly say he had a reason to continue living.

Lupin, always perceptive, had seen these emotions coursing through Harry, and in an attempt to steer him in a more lively direction, suggested moving to the vacant Ministry building.

At first, Lupin felt as if this was a bad relocation. He had never known Harry had found the dead bodies of his, metaphorically speaking, adopted parents there. He'd done his best to cheer Harry up, but was unsuccessful. Instead, he let Harry be; a choice that did more good than he would ever know.

Harry had just wandered around the Ministry at first. There were many places to explore. Some rooms looked as if they'd been untouched since the day of the fallout. One room in particular still held the scent of tobacco, and another contained an unopened paper airplane memo that was fighting to stay off the ground as its magic died out.

Harry had never been fond of the Ministry, but each room still held memories – memories of surprise attacks – and with each passing office Harry felt himself die a little bit more.

Close to a month after Voldemort's defeat, Harry had found himself wandering in the eerie corridors of the Department of Mysteries. He'd purposefully avoided the area since the move. There were, in his opinion, only more sad memories to find there. At first he had been correct. But his views would change.

The door to Harry's quarters opened wide and Harry leapt from his armchair to find Lupin standing in the doorway.

"You're late Remus," Harry said in mock anger. He failed, and a smile broke out across his face as he approached and embraced his friend. "How did it go?"

"How did what go?" Lupin asked innocently. "Hell, I'm starving – food?" Harry agreed, and together they made some ham sandwiches from the previous nights leftovers. Half way through his second sandwich, Lupin came up for air and began. "You know Harry; I wish you weren't doing this. At least not until after you develop a more comfortable way to Time Travel. I'm getting bloody sick of the sensation."

The day Harry had explored the Department of Mysteries, he was not surprised to find it almost untouched. With out Death Eaters crawling down his shorts, he was freer to look around at his leisure. Over the last five years at the Ministry, Harry and Lupin and learned a great deal from many texts and manuscripts in the DoM. One thing they had taken a strong liking to involved the production of Time Turners. Together, after Harry had come out of his depressed state, and after two years of research and development, Harry and Lupin had developed a number of ways to breach the laws of time.

"You'll have to figure out a new way on your own. I won't be here to help much longer," Harry said between mouthfuls of his own sandwich. He was bubbling with excitement. He was set to _leave_ on Friday.

"Yes, I know." Lupin was a little sad at the prospect of losing Harry.

Over the years, between mastering many aspects and arts of magic, some of the _most_ well known being Legilimency and Occlumency, Harry and Lupin had discovered why the Department of Mysteries was always under lock and key. Some of the information stored within was utterly disturbing.

One day, while exploring the Time Room, they'd come across a book discussing the idea of time-travel. From this book, they had developed their original time traveling methods. But deeper, towards the back of the book, there lay chapters on the theory of soul transportation. The book had, in short, stated that soul transportation may be possible, but it was yet to be trialed.

Harry had merely skimmed over this section at first until his eyes picked up the words '. . . find . . . inhabit . . . body.' Quickly skimming back, Harry reread the passage.

'The separated soul will, on its own accord, search, find and inhabit its appropriate body in the time in which it is placed. The soul would, in theory, remove the resident soul; regain consciousness upon its union with the resident mind, and take control of the present time body.'

He and Lupin had discussed the possibilities. Harry had, in short, ordered Lupin to help him achieve this end. Harry didn't care if it killed him; at least there was hope this way for a better life and future. In a short time, the pair had discovered 'time' was a much more complicated and twisted phenomenon than most books postulated. There seemed to be an infinite number of time planes. No matter what they changed in the past, their future would never produce similar results. In other words, once Harry's soul was transported back, the chances of Lupin finding Harry's current time plane was very low.

"You could always go back as well Lupin. Change the world in your realm. You know where all the horcruxes are, and you could make short work of Voldemort at the level of power you possess now." The book had also hypothesized that one's magic ability would carry over with his or her soul, for one's magic core was interlaced with his or her soul. The transportation of one element was impossible; the two were inseparable. "Not to mention, you could get together with _Tonks_." Harry egged. As of late, Harry was able to talk about his past friends and family more openly. It must have been the feeling that he might be seeing them in the near future; he hoped atleast.

Harry had never actually time traveled before. Not since he was thirteen. As such, Harry hadn't seen any of his departed comrades since their deaths. Lupin, on the other hand, had traveled through multiple timelines.

"Harry –"Lupin choked on what was left of his sandwich. "Not funny." Lupin was not as open about his past. Harry knew full well Lupin planned on staying and to help rebuild this timeline.

"Sorry," Harry sighed. It was only Wednesday here. He'd have to endure two more days before he either died, or moved on to a much more promising life.

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A/N: Alright, so here's the deal. I just covered my version of the Wizarding world's history. Any wholes that you find, plz let me know. This is the intro to the story. I separately posted the first 2500 words or so as a one-shot because I thought it could stand as such. This is the first chapter. Stay tuned, I plan on writing this as a novel length fic (a.k.a. - you know there's gonna be lots of content and action, and definetally romance). BETA anyone? -o ya, I plan on making Harry bad-ass, because as the savoir of the world, he should be. If it wasn't for Dumbledore holding him back, he would have been (or should have been) way more powerful in his younger years. Enjoy!


	2. Defying the Laws of SpaceTime

Chapter two: Defying the Laws of Space-Time

Friday morning arrived, and Harry Potter awoke. Wide-awake instantly, he leapt from his bed in search of the nearest bathroom to wash-up.

After thoroughly cleaning himself, Harry left and slammed the bathroom door behind him. This was how Harry and Lupin communicated in the large complex that was once the British Ministry of Magic. Depending on the time of day, a sound of a slamming door could mean a number of things. In this case, Harry was on his way to eat breakfast. This morning, as a result of slamming the door, Harry was unintentionally responsible for a mirror on the adjoining wall to fall and shatter across the floor.

Harry froze, but it wasn't long until a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Bloody superstitions."

Quickly ascending a flight of stairs, Harry found Lupin making breakfast in what was once an employee break-room, but was now their dining room.

"Morning Remus," Harry stated happily.

"Morning." Lupin was hardily in a good mood.

Setting out a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, Lupin and Harry ate in silence. Harry pretended not to notice, but he felt Lupin's uneasy gaze falling on him at frequent and un-patterned intervals. His friend was also becoming increasingly unsettled and fidgety in his seat.

Harry set down his fork, steepled his hands and fingers in a very Dumbledore like fashion, and stared at his friend.

"What's up?" Harry asked, concern encasing each word, but with a stern edge to his voice that left no room for evasion of the question. Lupin froze and his face drained of color, but he still responded.

"Harry," Lupin paused, considering his wording for the unavoidable explanation. He almost looked ashamed of himself. "Harry, I have a confession to make. Please Harry, I want you to understand. I'm not trying to steer you away from going through with this today, but . . . I want you to be aware of some things first." Harry nodded for his friend to continue.

"Ok, as you know, I've gone 'back' quite a few times in the last few years. Sometimes, when I go back, I land in planes that are slightly . . . well . . . different than ours." Lupin stopped again and gave a look that begged for Harry to understand on his own. Harry countered with his own look; one that superimposed a question mark over his face. Lupin let out an exasperated sigh, and pressed on. "For example: One time, I went back and found Fudge had never been elected as Minister. Another time," Lupin got louder in an attempt to out volume Harry's laughter, "I went back and was shocked to find wizards and muggles working together, totally aware of the other's existence, in peace." Harry's laughter died. "But Harry – sometimes, when I go back, I pick up no magical signatures in all of Britain except for myself." Harry sat up straight in his chair and his eyes widened in understanding. If Lupin's words could be described as 'a bombshell,' it had just dropped.

"Remus," Harry's voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge present. "Were you certain?" Lupin nodded as he stared at his plate of almost untouched food, quietly awaiting the inevitable. "AND YOU TELL ME THIS NOW?" Harry lost all composure as a mixture of anger and panic set in. "I could go back to – to – to the middle of a transfiguration lesson at Hogwarts, or I could go back and be the only magical being in all of Great Britain?" Harry couldn't remember standing, but he was now. Having no desire to continue ranting, he abruptly sat back down and put his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry Harry," Lupin apologized sincerely. Harry looked up to his downcast friend and made a decision.

"I'm still going back. With any luck I'll end up somewhere good. If not, I'll just have to deal with the consequences if and when they find me." Lupin nodded in understanding. "I just wish you wouldn't have waited till the 'day of' to tell me this." Lupin sighed. He hadn't meant to keep this from his friend, but the right time always seemed as if it was a day away, everyday.

"Would you like to do it soon, everything is prepared?"

"Yeah, but give me a couple hours. I gotta go think on a few things." Harry thanked Lupin for breakfast, then stood up and left to find a quiet room where he could simply ponder the situation.

'_This sure complicates stuff_,' Harry thought as he sat in the Minister's office before the roaring fireplace. '_At least, according to the book, I'll still have my magic no matter where I come out_.'

Harry had outlined his plan of action the night before, but that might be useless now. He planned on destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes immediately, and then Voldemort himself before any harm could come to his loved ones. But he'd made all his plans assuming he'd go back in time just like one would with a time-turner – same people, same world, same situation. Now, with the knowledge that an alternate timeline can almost certainly imply an alternate universe as well, Harry was . . . well . . . uncertain.

'_Hell, there's one positive outcome though. Tom Riddle could be a muggle in my new timeline_." Harry couldn't suppress a grin.

XXXXXX

"Now remember – no matter where, when, or under what circumstances – immediately suppress your magic and raise your occlumency shields when you reach your body," Lupin ordered. They had discussed the issue, and decided it best for Harry to lay low at first. In order to keep his cover, said precautions were necessary.

"Occlumency – up, magic – down, got it." Harry was on his back, arms and legs stretched out in opposite directions as far as they could go. He was on a large circular slab of granite that was as smooth as the finest cut marble. Light reflected off the surface of the stone in a way only magic could induce. It was large enough that Harry couldn't extend even one limb over an edge if he was properly positioned.

Cut into the granite's surface were numerous runic symbols. Some of the individual symbols were so old, their meanings had been lost. But, when read by a runic master, the symbols would read:

_Torn from body, soul and mind_

_Sent through time, they will rebind_

_Locate thy brother, the pair will_

_Remove the twin, but will not kill_

This magic Harry and Lupin were trying was said to be 'very inexact' according to the book's author, seeing as it had never been attempted. One could not simply choose a time, date, and place for rebinding. It was more guess work than that.

Depending on quantities of certain elements, one could only estimate the arrival time at best. Harry and Lupin had narrowed it down to somewhere between Harry's 11th birthday and his 16th birthday. That was as accurate as they could infer. There were just too many attributing factors and unknown variables.

The process, once all other preparations were completed (i.e. – the granite slab), was fairly simplistic. Harry had to take a very complicated potion; one that took all of Harry's finesse, and all of Lupin's attentiveness. The potion took close to two months to brew, and then required another month to mature.

Now, after three months, the name-less potion was complete. It looked a lot like oil. Harry would need to consume a goblet of the thin liquid; then, Lupin would have to recite a long incantation, found in the book, that would act as an ignition, or a catalyst of sorts. The incantation would trigger the potion; the potion would react, and they'd wait. It was that simple.

Lupin looked to be on the verge of tears where he currently stood to Harry's right.

"I'm going to miss you Harry," he choked out.

"I love you too Remus," Harry said genuinely. Lupin smiled before the two closed the distance and shared a brotherly hug.

"Ok, here we go. Drink this." Lupin held back his emotions and handed Harry a goblet of the fresh potion.

With out a second thought, Harry grabbed it and knocked it back. Despite its appearance, the potion could have passed for water, except for the fact that it was black.

"Anything?"

"Tasteless," Harry shook his head as he lay back and resituated himself upon the granite slab. "Ok, let's go. Do it." Lupin nodded and started reading directly from the time-travel book.

Harry could hear Lupin's voice articulating each Latin syllable perfectly, but in truth, he wasn't listening. He couldn't help but conjure up images of his old friends faces to the forefront of his mind's eye – Hermione studying in the Gryffindor common room, Ron playing chess at the Burrow, Ginny blushing as her elbow met the butter dish. If everything went as planned, he'd soon be seeing them all.

Lupin finished the incantation and the runes inscribed on the granite glowed bright white for a moment before changing to an electric blue. The light seemed to fill the room, casting eerie blue shadows everywhere. Almost concurrent with the color change, Harry's stomach gave an almighty churn, then another, and another. It was like a controlled internal combustion, as his innards felt as if they were set ablaze.

'_The book never said it'd be painless_,' Harry thought as he toughed-out the pain. He didn't want Lupin to know how bad it hurt, but the signs were hard to hide, as he felt tears bristling at the back of his eyes. He clenched is jaw tighter, attempting to stifle any groan that might try to escape. His blood was searing; it was boiling. It was pure, unhindered agony.

Instinctively, Harry did his best to relax. Fighting it would only make the pain worse.

Closing on a full minute, his stomach gave one final churn and the pain began to dissipate. It was odd; Harry literally felt his body systems start to shut down. His respiratory system went first. The inability to breath was terrifying. He probably would've screamed had he still possessed the ability to force air past his vocal chords.

Next, as if a bass drum was being played in close proximity to his head, Harry could hear and feel the steady pulse of blood in his skull fighting to maintain its rhythmic tune. His heart pounded hard one last time in his chest before falling dormant.

Harry was sure, had his nervous system not started to dull, he would've felt his limbs succumb to numbness as his circulatory system stalled.

'_Is this what dieing naturally is like_?' Harry wondered to himself. '_If so, this is terrifying_.' The suspense was a form of torture in a league of its own. Harry decided, had he had the choice, he'd prefer a quick death; one without warning. It was strange though. Harry was definitely scared of what was happening to him, but he was almost tranquil. Because he _knew_ what was happening, he held no fear.

Above Harry, Lupin started to fade in and out of focus. Tears were steadily streaming down his best friend's face, and Harry realized his hearing was shot, as he watched Lupin sobbing and mouthing words without pausing for breath; he was loosing his best friend too after all.

As the last remnants of sensation left his body, the feeling of weightlessness took hold, and Harry knew he was almost gone. Using every ounce of strength he possessed, he winked; Harry's piercing green eyes glazed over; Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, died.

"Good-bye Harry."

XXXXXX

It was almost indescribable, almost. Harry was . . . somewhere. His senses told him he was in a black void, but then again, he had no senses. Harry felt, but he didn't feel. He saw, but he was incapable of sight. It was almost indescribable.

Harry was a bodiless entity. According to his senses – no – intuition, he decided he was floating through some mass-less, volume-less abyss.

He had a hazy sort of consciousness. Complete thoughts were hard to form, due to the absence of a brain. Comprehension was barely within reach.

Suddenly, with a jolt, Harry felt a slight pull on his being. It was similar to the jerk sensation received when traveling by port-key, but because he had no body, it was slightly less uncomfortable. Harry felt as if he was being drawn somewhere. He was being pulled to an undisclosed destination.

He didn't quite understand what was happening, but he knew it was right. He would wait. He'd arrive where ever _there_ was eventually.

What Harry didn't know, was that Time-Travel was almost parallel to apparition in terms of speed. It wouldn't take long for Harry to make the jump.

XXXXXX

Harry knew the spell had worked. It had to have, what with all the stories of 'bright lights at the end of hallways,' and 'pleasant music playing while one waited in line before the gates.' He was experiencing no such adventures; he was simply being tugged along, surrounded by darkness on his newly departed transit. Therefore, the only reasoning his weak problem solving conscious could conclude was that everything was going as pla –.

The best and only way to describe it was that Harry was slammed into a barrier of some kind. The impact was so forceful, Harry was surprised he wasn't dizzy. The barrier was similar, though not identical, to an occlumency shield.

Harry subconsciously urged himself to pass through the barrier. Much like a jack-hammer, Harry felt as if he were chipping through, though at an accelerated rate.

The wall of sorts was not thick, and Harry could feel _it_ calling to him from the other side. _It _was encouraging him to try harder. There was a mutual attraction, and Harry desperately tore through. As the last chunk fell away, an indescribable sensation hit Harry, who at the moment was naught but a magically bound soul. Like magnetically charged puzzle pieces, Harry met his companion on the other side, but his intuition was disturbed to find another entity already bound to his desired counterpart.

With a force the opposition could not match, Harry tore it away and felt as it left through his previously dug hole.

There was no sight involved, but Harry knew this shapeless mass in front of him was _his_; he knew what he had to do without really knowing how the information came to him.

Completing the jigsaw, Harry wrapped himself around the mass of content, and then seeped into it and the two became one.

Almost immediately Harry felt different. His head was steadily clearing, almost as if he'd taken a Hang-over potion moments ago.

'_Is this right_?' Harry's first intelligent thoughts echoed through his body as he '–_My body_!' It was there now. He could feel it; his fingers and toes, arms and legs. It felt different though. He felt smaller in build, and weaker in strength. '_Magic – down_, _occlumency – up_.' His mind was in working order, thank the gods.

Unless he was somewhere deathly quiet, with no lights to speak of, his sight and hearing were yet to return. But he could feel a light breeze on his face, so he knew the latter was more likely than not. Also, he could feel a hard, rough surface supporting his frame: possibly wood, or metal. He was sprawled on it rather awkwardly, and he hoped no one was making fun of his current state.

With a thought, his brain delivered a message to his toes, and he clenched, wiggled, and unclenched them experimentally. Harry did the same with his fingers before he heard a faint buzzing. His ears were rebooting. Wondering if his eyes weren't far behind, Harry elevated his eyelids and saw light overcoming the darkness.

A sudden sharp pain in his left pointer finger told him something was not as it should be, and he swatted away the source of the pain. His muscles were definitely smaller than his twenty-five year old body's had been, as evidenced by the lack of power he felt in his limbs.

'Ok, now where am I?' Harry thought. Making to stand, Harry realized he'd been slouching in an ordinary, old, wooden chair. Shakily heaving himself to his feet, he lost his balance and tripped over what he figured was a foot rest. 'Very graceful Harry. Good one,' he thought sarcastically.

Harry's eyes snapped open. His head impacting the earth (his face was in the dirt) had the effect of clearing his senses the remainder of the way, and what he heard made him freeze. It was all around him: a steady roaring of cheering voices and excited chatter. But that was only part of what made his stomach start re-churning. Before his face, not but 12 inches away, was a perfect replica of a Hungarian Horntail—complete with two bright yellow eyes, and an intimidating, razor sharp spiked tail.

To be continued . . .

------->

Hey! I thought that would be a pretty good place to cut it. I should be updating this pretty regulary, so no worries.

If any of you have some ideas for Harry, or if there's anything you want him to do, let me know, and I'll see what I can do. R&R

Thanks, Ben


	3. Dazed and Confused

_Chapter three: Dazed and Confused..._

_...Continued..._

_'Ok, now where am I?' Harry thought. Making to stand, Harry realized he'd been slouching in an ordinary, old, wooden chair. Shakily heaving himself to his feet, he lost his balance and tripped over what he figured was a foot rest. 'Very graceful Harry. Good one,' he thought sarcastically._

_Harry's eyes snapped open. His head impacting the earth (his face was in the dirt) had the effect of clearing his senses the remainder of the way, and what he heard made him freeze. It was all around him: a steady roaring of cheering voices and excited chatter. But that was only part of what made his stomach start re-churning. Before his face, not but 12 inches away, was a perfect replica of a Hungarian Horntail—complete with two bright yellow eyes, and an intimidating, razor sharp spiked tail._

XXXXXX

"Oh shit!" Harry moaned and grumbled all at once. His mind was reeling. '_Of all the times to rebond with myself, I have to do it now_!'

Somewhere outside of the tent, a deafening roar ripped threw the ether and Harry cringed. '_Just_! _Great_!'

"A great performance there by Mr. Krum! Everyone give him a round of applause!" A booming voice, most likely amplified by a Sonorus Charm, bellowed to what Harry assumed was the large audience outside his tent. "And now, for our final champion. Unlucky Mr. Harry Potter will be facing the most fearsome dragon in attendance today, a Hungarian Horntail. Let's give Harry some encouragement with another round of applause shall we?" Somewhere outside the tent, an obnoxiously loud whistle blew and Harry understood that to be his cue.

He wasn't ready though. He'd just traveled through time and jumped head long into a new body, even if it was his. He hadn't even been given the time to set his bearings.

'_For Merlin's sake_!' Harry knew he had to leave the tent but he didn't want to draw attention, which was slightly ironic if not impossible, considering he was about to battle a dragon before the eyes of students, reporters, and other adults. Harry stood up shakily, purposely kicking the dragon figurine before slowly walking out through the entrance of the tent.

It was just as he could remember. There were hundreds upon hundreds of staring faces, all attached to hundreds upon hundreds of bodies, all located in stands that circled a large enclosure. It was almost like a dream, seeing the monstrous Horntail, standing there protecting her future children. But of course, one was not a dragon's egg, but rather a shiny golden egg that would hint at the next task.

Harry knew what he had to do.

"Accio Firebolt!" he shouted. Harry was almost stunned. The words had flown out of his mouth before he had even grasped what he was saying. A familiar whoshing sound met his ears as the reason for his shock zipped to a stop at his side, waist high. He hadn't seen his Firebolt for years. It had been left behind at some point during the war and Harry had failed to find it.

Running his hand from the tip to last tail twig, Harry's heart soared. It was like meeting a friend in a coffee shop after being separated for many years. He swung his leg over the broom and kicked off the ground, soaring up into the air. Higher and higher he climbed, relishing the feeling of freedom, oblivious to the hundreds of stunned people below him.

A sound like rolling thunder washed over him, and Harry came back to his senses, only to find himself high, high above where he was supposed to be. Looking down, Harry saw what resembled a small petri dish filled with a great number of small particles all surrounding a larger particle.

Harry could clearly remember the events of this day; circling the dragon over and over again, looking for a small hole to slip through and grab the egg, only to get his shoulder cut by a tail spike. Not today though, no sir!

Harry tipped the nose of his newly recovered friend perpendicular to the ground's surface, and let his broom excellerate to top speed. He heard a sigh of relief echo over the stands as he almost effortlessly pulled out of the dive and came to a stop, gently landing on the soft grassy earth.

"Accio egg," Harry said under his breath, ignoring the dragon's effort to burn him to a crisp and deafen him all at once. His suspicion was confirmed when the egg didn't move. '_They would make the egg un-summonable! I guess that would be a little too easy though_.' Harry didn't intend to show how much he knew about magic or how powerful he was until the time was right, so he'd have to find another way to solve this problem. He'd have to use a method a fourth year should know. '_Hmpff_! _I wonder _. . . '

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry screamed, concentrating on the real eggs. He could have just levitated the dragon, but he knew a fourth year, much less a full grown adult, would be hard pressed to pull off such a feat. In chorus, every single egg, minus the golden one, rose up around their mother, carefully avoiding her many dangerous weapons. The dragon roared in shock and distress, watching her quarry rise up over her head. Dragons were NOT stupid, and after seeing Harry on his broom, knew the air was not safe for her babies as long as they were not accompanied by her. As such, with a great flap of his mighty wings, the Hungarian Horntail rose up close to fifty feet to hover amongst her children.

Keeping the eggs aloft, Harry lazily walked forward. Once under the large shadow of the beast, Harry picked up the egg and walked away to a safe distance before slowly lowering the eggs back to the ground, careful not to damage one even the slightest bit. An angry dragon was very fearsome.

"Look at that." Harry could remember Bagman yelling this the first time around, but today, his voice was calm, filled with surprise and awe. It was then that Harry noticed how calm and quiet the rest of the stadium was. "Amazing. . . Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg," the man's voice was slowly increasing in volume as he came back to his senses. "Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!" The rest of the onlookers seem to come back to reality, and some singular cheers were soon joined by the rest of the stadium as a thunderous applause begins. The screams, shouts, and claps were loud enough that Harry couldn't even hear the dragon keepers' cries of 'stupify' as they subdued the Horntail.

A hand clapped his back, almost knocking over his pitifully weak body, and Harry almost drew his wand on the assailant until a familiar voice passed through to his ears.

"That was excellent, Potter!" cried Professor McGonagall as he bent down and picked up his Firebolt. Harry looked up and couldn't help but smile. Seeing Professor McGonagall alive was a good sign. Maybe the changes in this world, if any, would be much smaller than he'd feared. Harry's smile only grew larger as he looked into the face of his first ever friend: Hagrid. The half giant's pats on the back would be welcomed from here on out.

Unfortunately though, the smile left Harry's face rather quickly as the one and only Professor Moody limped out from behind Hagrid. A dark aura surrounded the man, and Harry was trying his best to keep his face emotionless. He didn't want to take out the imposter right now, in front of everyone. Harry would wait and deal him later . . . in private.

"You'll need to see Madam Pomprey before the judges give out your score . . .Over there, she's had to mop up Diggory already . . ." McGonagall said.

"Yeh did it, Harry!" said Hagrid hoarsley. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Horntail an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was the wors'--"

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said loudly. He didn't need Hagrid getting in trouble. At that moment, Moody looked as if he was about to give his two cents, but Harry didn't want to here the Death Eater utter even one word, so he quickly ducked away from the trio and headed toward the mouth of a second tent; the one McGonagall had pointed him towards. Inside, Harry gratefully put up with Pomprey's check up, who was happy to announce him undamaged. After her examination, she took off to go check on Cedric.

'_Now, if my memory serves me right, ahhh . . . yes_," Harry thought. Two VERY familiar people had just darted into the tent: Hermione, and Ron.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione squeaked, the finger nail marks on her face as clear as ever. "You were amazing! You really were! We didn't even practice that," she finished approvingly. Harry smiled, trying as hard as he could to not leap up and embrace her. The same went for Ron, who he looked over to next. The urge to grab both of them and never let go was immense, but seeing Ron's white face and staring eyes kept him in place. They both looked so young . . .

"Harry," Ron began, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet -- I -- I reckon they're trying to do you in!" Harry almost died then. A large laugh was trying to spew out of his mouth, and Harry was suffocating in is attempt to keep it in.

'_Someone's trying to do **me** in_?' Harry thought with mock shock. '_You have no idea_.' Harry knew that Ron had just experienced a big fight with him here, in this time, but Harry couldn't be mad. He'd just shared words with two of his friends, who until this moment were dead to him.

"It's alright mate!" Harry exclaimed, leaping to his feet as he gave in to his urges, and pulled Ron and Hermione in for a group hug. "Just don't let it happen again!" The rest of the day went on in a blur. Harry did his best to act immature and unknowledgeable, the whole while enjoying the company of Ron and Hermione. Harry had received top scores for the first task and was surprisingly leading the tournament, even with Karkaroff's meager '6' this time around.

The trio partied in the common room that night. Harry refused to open the egg over and over again, which confused most of the Gryffindors, but they stopped asking after he put it away up stairs. Harry let the others do most of the talking though. He was a little unsure of himself. He needed to settle back into things. It didn't help that he had classes tomorrow, which Hermione reminded them when two a.m. rolled around. For one, he couldn't bring himself to fight Hermione; for two, he was tired anyway, and needed sleep. The combination of time-travel, dragon fighting, friend re-meeting, and partying had taken a toll on his being.

Saying good night to Ron felt natural on his tongue, almost as if he hadn't gone on a seven year hiatus from the words. Ron's 'Night mate,' sounded just as natural and refreshing.

Harry fell asleep almost immediately that night. No dreams of death and destruction haunted his mind thanks to his Occlumency shields, and a proper bed may have assisted as well. His small bed at the Ministry didn't have a feather mattress, or silk sheets, or elves to warm it even. This was definitely a nice change in Harry's opinion.

XXXXXX

**Earlier That Day . . .**

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore watched as the young Durmstrang champion, Mr. Krum, performed an exeptible Conjunctivitus Curse on his Chinease Fireball before foolishly dashing forward and snatching his golden egg from beneath the dragon, narrowly escaping before a large, clawed foot stomped down on his previous position, smashing a few of the real dragon eggs in the process. Dumbledore could tell Krum had just learned the spell recently, but didn't care. He agreed as much as the next person--cheating was just part of this tournament.

Dumbledore rose from his seat suddenly, startling Hogwart's Potion's Master, Severus Snape. Snape follow the elderly man's eyes, and found himself gazing at the champion's tent.

"Headmaster?" Snape inquired.

"Hmm . . . I thought . . . but no, never mind Severus . . . just a false alarm." But Dumbledore's eyes never left the tent until Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, emerged unscathed. Albus, what with his incredible senses, had felt an immense, almost unfathomable amount of power erupt from within the tent Harry had just been in. The power easily surpassed his; probably doubled it. But it was not the incredible size of the power that intrigued the Headmaster; It was the way the power almost vanished the second he'd felt it wash over him. '_Hmm_ . . .'

To be Continued...

XXXXXX

A/N: Ok, that was short, but those of you who reviewed asked for a quick update, so I cut it here to give you what I have so far.

---Harry remet with Ron and Hermione and kind of went into a daze for the rest of the day. It was a shock being with his once-dead friends again. I say this just incase any of you wondered why I breezed through the rest of the day so fast.

And of course: I took dialogue directly from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, written by J.K. Rowling. I give all credit to her! And just incase, 'Dazed and Confused' is the title of a Led Zepplin song.

--Didn't want to plagiarize. R&R!

Ben


	4. Sirius Problems and Red Head Reunions

**Disclaimer**: Yup, I'm just another loser with no money. But, J.K. Rowling isn't a loser, nor is she poor. How did this come to pass, you might ask . . . ? Well, she wrote the Harry Potter series of course! Every word. As such, most of the plot and people you read about below belong to her, so please keep the law off my back. Thanks.

**Continued . . .**

**Chapter four: Sirius Problems and Red Head Reunions . . .**

_Lupin was sitting in a high backed armchair before a fireplace, sipping from a steaming cup of tea. _

_The man had just lost the last link to his friends . . . family . . . past, present, and future. Images of Harry twitching and foaming at the mouth were still blinding his thoughts, and he didn't expect them to stop their torture anytime soon._

_To be honest, Lupin wasn't even sure if the ritualistic event had even been successful, and that uncertainty was enough to push a lesser man into insanity. The book had said nothing of the experimental group's (Harry) reaction to the spelled-potion, and the old Marauder couldn't help but wonder if he'd done something wrong and killed Harry, instead of sent him back in time._

_**Two hours earlier . . .**_

_Lupin finished the long Latin spell inscribed in the ancient tome and in response, heard Harry gasp. Lupin looked to his friends face in concern and saw that the younger man had his jaw clamped shut and his eyelids down tight. A bright white light, followed by a steady blue filled the room as a sound similar to a hungry stomach's growls was issuing from Harry's midsection, and Lupin hoped to whatever God there is that this was what was supposed to happen. _

_Harry's back arched up momentary like someone having a seizure and Lupin tossed the book aside to hold his friend down. Whether this was going properly or not, the book had specifically stated that the potion-infested test subject could not leave the confines of the granite circle. If Harry put even a toe over the edge, the spell would cancel out, and Harry would die. _

_Close to a minute of restraining Harry passed before Lupin could release him. Harry's muscles had lost their rigidity and his body was limp. In the process, Harry's facial expression had lost its pained look, and his eyes had opened, looking almost peaceful now. But he wasn't dead. He was still breathing; at least, he was a moment ago . . ._

_"Harry?"_

_" . . . " No response issued from his friend._

_"HARRY!" Lupin yelled into his face as tears erupted from his own eyes. Lupin held Harry's wrist up to check for a pulse and found none. Lupin looked back up into the face of his only company for the last seven odd years and found the boy's skin was slowly loosing its healthy color. _

_Lupin started muttering prayers, and wishes, and apologies without even thinking. This was as sorrowful, if not more sorrowful, than the day he was informed of Harry's parents' deaths._

_Through his steadily streaming eyes, Lupin choked on a sob as Harry's facial muscles twitched in a pathetic, yet obvious attempt at a wink. Then, after everything they'd seen . . . those startling, trademark, bright green eyes dimmed and glazed over for the first time. The life left the orbs, and Harry died._

_"Good-bye Harry."_

_**End Flashback . . .**_

_Harry's body was still on the granite slab. Lupin hadn't the heart to move him yet, the event was just too fresh in his mind at the moment. So, there his best friend lay, under a large white linen sheet. The only change Lupin had made was in closing his lifeless eyes. Eyes such as those should never have to bear witness to anything more._

_Lupin was drawn out of the serenity within his mind by the sound of thundering footsteps. Someone was running through the corridors of the Ministry, opening, then slamming doors shut. But who? Lupin and Harry had never had someone breach their wards. Even if someone that knew the where-abouts of the British Ministry, the many charms erected around and within the confines of the monument would send them else where._

_Lupin stood up quickly, looking for possible places within the room that he could use for cover in case of a duel, but before he could come to a decision on where to hide, the door to his small study was whipped open and a familiar face entered the room._

_The man's hair was sweaty from all the running, and was currently matted down all over his face. His eyes were wide in horror and he looked almost hysterical. Seeing Lupin seemed to agitate him more, and tears joined the sweat on his face._

_"Professor?" The man all but cried out. Lupin starred in horror, almost as shell-shocked as the young man before him._

_"Harry?"_

XXXXXX

An unrecognized sound woke Harry. He felt rested and loved how the comfortable bed felt under his body. He went to stretch his legs out when the feeling of silk brushed along his exposed skin.

His eyes snapped open, and the he sat up quickly. The calm state he'd been in earlier was long gone now. His bed didn't have silk sheets! He was sure of that.

Harry's eyes adjusted, and as the red and gold Gryffindor colors faded into view, his mind recounted the last day or so. The tension in his muscles left and Harry lay back down.

It hadn't really dawned on him until now, since this was the first quiet, private time for him to think and reflect.

'_So I'm back . . ." _Harry thought. He was optimistic for once, looking on the bright side. Here, he could set the rules; no more hiding behind his parental figures' wings, or being kept in the dark about stuff that pertained to him and him alone. Here, Harry knew the Prophecy. Here, Harry knew magic most could only dream about. Here, Harry had power, and he intended to use it.

The sound that Harry suspected had woken him repeated itself, coming in through the open window near his bedside. Silently drawing back the heavy covers, Harry slid out of his bed and crept to the window to inspect the source of the nightly disturber. Looking down, Harry saw Hagrid trying to feed the exceptionally large palominos that pulled the Beauxbaton carriage. Hagrid was in his element, and Harry couldn't help but smirk happily for the man. He would bet every galleon in his Gringotts' vaults that Hagrid had a massive smile buried under his mass of facial hair at that very instant.

A snort, followed by a long slur of undeterminable words issued from behind Ron's curtains and Harry almost chuckled. The noises Ron used to make while he slept once drove him bonkers, but Harry doubted he would find a Ron-Snort, or a Ron-Snore annoying ever again.

Yes, this definitely looked good to Harry. He was especially happy to find no differences between here and his old timeline; at least, not yet. Harry hoped that any differences here were very small. He padded across the floor to his trunk and opened it to make sure he had most of everything. Harry found, among other things, his dad's cloak, the Marauders' Map, a pair of Omnioculars, and the Golden Egg he took possession of the previous day. But Harry's brief relief at seeing some off his most prized possessions was ended when he found a thick stack of letters from the previous years. At the thought of letters, someone came to mind . . .

'_Sirius.'_ Lupin and Harry had decided on a few things, and one was to get Sirius' name cleared of all crimes as soon as possible. Harry didn't need Sirius cooped up in Grimmauld Place, or living on rats; it wasn't humane, or fair to the man. A quick decision later and Harry was robed in his dad's cloak, the Marauders' Map in his left hand, and some parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink in the other. He needed to talk to Sirius and convince the over-protective Godfather that he was fine at Hogwarts with out his protection.

Creeping down the stairs soundlessly, Harry flipped the hood of the cloak over him to make himself totally invisible, then entered the common room. A low fire was dieing in the grates, and the room was dead silent . . . almost. A small whimpering sound, accompanied by heavy breathing, was coming from a couch near the fireplace. Harry approached slowly, careful not to rub his legs together or let the cloak _'swish' _around him as he walked. Looking over the back of the couch, Harry's heart stopped.

'_Ginny . . .'_ Her long red hair, for the most part, was spread out around her small form like a great mane, but one lonely cluster was sticking to her tear stained face. She was having some kind of nightmare, or so it seemed. The youngest Weasley was in her night clothes, and a Gryffindor scarf was being abused in her flexing hands as she pulled and twisted it vigorously.

Harry swept around the couch quickly, forgetting to be stealthy; for, in his opinion, it didn't matter if he was quiet. Ginny needed help and comforting. Harry pulled back the hood of the invisibility cloak—one, because it blurred his vision, two, because it was bloody annoying the way it kept brushing across his face—and went down to his knees once he was in front of the couch.

He gently put one hand to her forehead; the other hand he placed over her convulsing hands in an attempt to calm her down. The reaction was instantaneous. Ginny's hands settled and her whimpering stopped. She had always calmed under his touch, and he was proud of that. He gently pried the scarf away, and in doing so, saw a name written on the tag that he was very accustomed to: Harry Potter. Harry's eye brows rose in amusement. He could remember, however vaguely, losing at least one scarf during his stay at Hogwarts, but having one STOLEN? He wasn't angry of course. This was _Ginny_ after all.

Setting the scarf by his side, Harry looked up into her face. Even at thirteen she was something to behold. How had he never noticed? Reaching up, Harry pulled the tendril of wet hair out of her face, an action he would later berate himself for. As he pulled her hair away, her eye lids opened the smallest amount. Her beautiful, chocolate brown eyes were still easy to see, even though the room's only light was coming from the dieing fire. Harry froze as their eyes made contact.

"Harry?" She asked sleepily. Harry did the first thing that came to him. He reached out his invisible arms and pulled her close; one hand wrapping around to land on her back, the other going up to stroke her hair. She fell asleep almost immediately, without question, and Harry was very grateful. When her breathing reached a steady pace, he was reluctant to release her, but knew he had to. The time to hold Ginny, _his _Ginny, would come, soon, but right now, he had to contact Sirius.

Wandlessly conjuring a thick blanket, Harry covered her so she wouldn't grow cold. Then, before leaving, he rolled up the scarf and tucked it behind her head as a make shift pillow. She could keep it. He _wanted_ her to keep it.

Breaking off his lingering gaze, Harry leaned down and gently kissed her forehead, then picked up his discarded possessions and left the common room, intent on going to the Owlery and sending a letter to his Godfather.

XXXXXX

The curtains pulled away; the sunlight spilled in, and Ron moved to wake Harry.

"Harry mate," Ron spoke quietly. "Get up or we won't get breakfast." Harry rolled over to look at his friend. Ron was exactly the same—red hair and freckles, pajamas that were much too short for him, and a strong obsession for food. Breakfast hadn't even started yet.

Fifth-teen minutes later, he and Ron were showered, dressed, and both eagerly awaiting nourishment.

Harry made sure to enter the Common Room ahead of Ron, his eyes scrutinizing the couch before the fire. Needless to say, Harry was happy to find the couch empty, but he also felt a little disappointed. He would never admit it, but part of him wanted to see Ginny still on the couch sleeping, safe. Images of her lifeless body on a camp bed, in a tent, alone, had damaged him beyond repair.

The two agreed to leave without Hermione that morning; their stomachs growled approvingly.

The Great Hall was already filled with the sound of students' voices when Harry and Ron arrived. Most of the Ravenclaws were already present, as were most of the Slytherins. Close to half of the Hufflepuff table was seated, and all but a few Professors were in attendance. Not surprised in the least, Harry saw that only a handful of Gryffindors had journeyed to breakfast thus far. 'The Brave' needed their sleep after all.

Once they themselves were seated, Ron ate with as much vigor as Harry could remember. The amount of food the red head could put away was astounding. Harry was determined to match him bite for bite though. A quick look in the mirror earlier that morning revealed just how skinny he truly was. Harry needed to put on some weight.

As the rest of the Hall filled, Harry and Ron were greeted by their class mates as usual, but the two grew worried when Hermione still hadn't joined them. She, according to Harry's memory, was never one to be late.

At last, Hermione had found her way to the Hall, but she wasn't alone. She and Ginny walked the length of the table until they found Harry and Ron, then seated themselves across from the boys—Hermione opposite Harry, and Ginny opposite her brother.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed as he swallowed yet another spoonful of porridge. "Breakfast is almost over Hermione." The disapproving look on Ron's face, however, went unnoticed. Hermione was paying no attention to Ron; in fact, her gaze was locked on Harry. Looking up, Harry found her eyes boring into his own; they were filled with a calculating suspicion. Something was up, and Harry had to admit, Hermione was good. Only her eyes gave away her ulterior motives; other than that, the rest of her face displayed a perfect facade of disinterest.

"Good morning," she finally responded once she broke off the eye contact. Small talk continued for a few minutes as Hermione and Ginny ate breakfast, and Harry couldn't help but notice how the youngest Weasley never looked or spoke to him. Eventually though, Hermione asked what was on her mind. "So . . . Harry, you . . . ahh . . . stayed in bed last night, right?" She asked in a would-be casual voice. At this, Ginny looked down into her eggs and her face flushed crimson.

Harry looked back and forth between the two girls' faces and recognized the signs of him 'getting played.' They were after something . . . but what? Harry didn't want to use his Legilimency skills on his friends, but he wasn't one to be manipulated. He'd come to the conclusion many years ago that he'd risk probing his friends' minds if it either protected them, or, in most cases, saved his own arse.

Reaching out with his mind, Harry gently tapped into Hermione's memories and received odd looks from his friends when he started chuckling for seemingly no reason . . .

_**Hours earlier: In Hermione's head . . .**_

_Hermione woke with a start when she heard someone barge into her dormitory without respect to its inhabitants. The door slammed against the inside wall and the heavy breathing of the assailant reached Hermione's ears._

_"Hermione! HERMIONE!" The intruder screeched. Hermione knew that voice well._

_"Over here Ginny, what is it?" She asked with only a little bitterness. Hermione liked her sleep; all Gryffindors did._

_"Get up; I need to talk to you!" Ginny ranted. Hermione growled inwardly, but recognized the desperate tinge in her friend's voice. The bushy haired brunette had a trouble turning away people in need. _

_"Ok ok, give me a minute," Hermione mumbled. She stumbled out of bed gracelessly and walked over to the only window in the room, under which was a pitcher of water and some disposable drinking cups. After a long draught of the cool, refreshing mixture of oxygen and hydrogen, she turned her gaze over to Ginny, who looked the definition of disheveled. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked, concerned now. The red head ran over to her._

_"Hermione, I . . . I had a . . . umm," Ginny looked around the dormitory, her sight lingering on the other beds. Hermione answered the silent question with a wave of her wand, placing a strong silencing charm around themselves. Ginny gave her a grateful look, then continued. "Hermione, I had a dream—at least I think it was a dream, I mean, I don't know, it was just so real and . . . and I hoped you could tell me what it meant maybe. Please?" Ginny pleaded. Once again, Hermione couldn't turn down 'help' when it came calling, even if did call so rudely._

_"Alright, tell me about it . . . everything you can remember, and be specific." Ginny blushed a little, but held her composure enough to describe the dream. _

_"Well, I couldn't sleep last night. You know, what with Harry and the dragon and . . ." She trailed off quietly. "But anyway, I went down to the Common Room and just sat on the couch and tried my best to keep my mind off of all the things that could have happened, but eventually, well, I fell asleep, and I started having a nightmare. Harry was burnt out of the air, then he'd walk back out of the champions' tent again, only to get stomped on by the dragon, then again, and he'd get bitten, and—ohh! Hermione, it was horrible. But then, right when Harry was getting shish kabobed by the dragon's tail, everything faded out. All of a sudden I felt calm Hermione, it was so . . . . odd. Ok, well this is where it got weird. I woke up in the common room, dreaming or not, I don't know, but I must've been dreaming, because of all of a sudden, there was Harry's head, Hermione! It was just floating there in front of me, like the rest of his body was invisible or something! And then I fell asleep again, but I didn't have any more nightmares, and I woke up just moments ago." Hermione wasn't stunned. Ginny had come to her many times to discuss things like dreams, Harry, school work, girl problems, and Harry. As such, not much could confuse her. This was a first in a long time._

'Harry's head . . . floating in mid-air . . . unaided; the rest of his body invisible.' _Hermione thought this scenario sounded strangely familiar. Ginny had mentioned how real the dream seemed, and maybe it was just that. But what would Harry be doing out of bed last night, and with his invisibility cloak no less? Ginny didn't know about the cloak, and if this had truly happened, Hermione didn't want to jeopardize Harry's trust. So, she'd have to white-lie._

_"Hmm, I'm not exactly sure what your dream means Ginny. Can you give me a little while to think on it?" Ginny nodded, but wasn't ready to quit their discussion just yet._

_"Do you think it's a sign? I know you said acting normal around him would help him notice me, but . . . I don't know." Ginny looked a little excited, and Hermione knew why. Ginny had been infatuated with Harry since before she'd even seen his face. It was a crush at one time, but Hermione suspected deeper feeling were present now._

_"I don't know Gin. Maybe," Hermione said. She didn't want to kill Ginny's hopes, but both Ron and Harry were so thick when it came to the opposite gender, she doubted Harry would notice the change in Ginny's attitude any time soon. "Can you come back in a little bit Ginny? We'll go down to breakfast together. Besides, you need a shower as much as I do." Hermione pointed out. Ginny smiled. The red head knew she must look a wreck. A night of nightmares on a couch will do that to you._

_"Sounds good." With that, Ginny left to her own dormitory. In her excitement, she'd failed to mention the fact that a blanket had found its way around her body some time in the night, and that one of her most prized possessions had found its way under her head. _

_A few soap problems, a rogue toothbrush, and a robe disaster later, and Hermione and Ginny had found their way to the Great Hall for breakfast._

_**Present . . .**_

Harry was chuckling lightly, a response to Hermione's question that intrigued the future Prefect.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked as innocently as she could. Harry noticed and decided to play along. He had nothing to hide. His feelings for Ginny were more concrete than any of them could possibly know.

"Actually no, I didn't stay in bed last night." Harry smirked inwardly at the way both of the females' heads snapped up to look at him; one, accusingly, the other, hopefully. Harry left it at that, wondering how long Hermione could last before her curiosity took hold . . . not long.

"Oh?" Hermione inquired after only a minute. "And?"

"I forgot to send a letter to Sirius yesterday to tell him how I did, so I went to the Owlery last night and told him I did fine and that I'd like to visit him as soon as possible." Harry let his voice drop in pitch at the end of the sentence; a sign of conclusion during a conversation. The smirk found its way to Harry's exterior then, but as he watched Ginny's face fall in sadness, he felt like he needed to do something. He felt guilty, like he'd committed a crime. Leaping to his feet suddenly, Harry leaned forward and whispered. "Ohh, and Gin, you really need to sleep in your own bed from now on . . . couches reek havoc on your back." That said, Harry literally sprinted from the Hall.

Ginny was once again fully flushed in the face, but confused at the same time. She would be notified of the invisibility cloak's existence at a later date. Confused or not though, a beautiful smile now lit up her face.

Ron was just plain confused. He didn't quite understand what had just happened, but it was nice to his sister smile. She didn't do so that often . . . bloody Chamber incident. Feeling his confusion ebb away, he dove back into his plate of food.

Hermione seemed to be the only one of the three that hadn't recovered somewhat yet. She was sitting back in her seat; her shoulders were hunched; her brow was furrowed in thought, and her eyes were unfocused. Under her breath, she thought, "Who's Sirius?"

**To Be Continued . . .**

----

A/N: There it is. I wrote that in a ski lodge yesterday, so I hope my distraction doesn't show in the writing.

-You might be wondering . . . why do the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and most likely the 5th chapters all take place between two to three days? Well, the answer is simple, at least from my point fo view. You remember the first couple days of school more than the . . . say . . . 53rd day, am I right? Well, if that's true, then Harry's first couple days back HAVE to be rather memorable, and memorable situations take A LOT of discription, so, in conclusion, the first handful of days are requiring more and more words than I had originally expected. Eventually though, the 'time' covered per chapter will increase, so don't fret. Besides, I want to write the Yule Ball pretty badly, so I'm eager to hurry up and get there.

R&R

Thanks,

Ben


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